Blooming Hibiscus
by HanakoAnimeaddict
Summary: Blooming in the night is fine, as long as it's not Ivan's fault.  Rated T, for now.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I NO OWN HETALIA NOR TWILIGHT!

(Yes, this has Russia/Romano, and this is only the first chapter.)

Warnings (for chapter): Russia/Romano (yaoi), stalker!Russia, Twilight (bashing?), confusing things that make you wonder what you've read, and... not-oblivious!Italy!

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><p>It was no shock to him when he ran into another human—it was a vacation hotspot. But the human's idiocy plus the sun put him in one of the worst moods he's ever been in. He hadn't had any blood, too, which already made him blood-thirsty (in more way than one). The human actually had to audacity to glare at him as if he was in the wrong, and not the other way. It only made his mood that much worse.<p>

"I might have to kill them all~" He knew some of the people around him were fearful, questioned his sanity, but he didn't care as long as they knew he wasn't one to be fucked with. He also wanted to make sure that no one would bother to come up to him, and ask him out on a date—once, it happened in his home, Moscow, Russia, and he swore that the lady was delusional.

He was just walking on the beach when he ran into the human. At first, he wouldn't have paid any attention (this was a popular place crawling with the pathetic, useless creatures), but the human smelled better than he thought was possible. He really wanted to follow the weak human, just to taste his blood—he wanted to savor the feeling. More importantly, he was curious as to how the human looked so innocent while swearing at everything (and everyone) in sight.

It was then that he decided that stalking that delectable human would be in his best interest. If he played his cards right, he could stop the human, and convince him to allow him near him—he could then drink the human's blood without anyone walking in to find that he wasn't as human as he appeared. Then again, they never did consider him a human—he heard the humans whispering, calling him the devil. He had to admit the name fit him.

That day, he didn't do anything interesting—the human visited his brother, who called the human Lovino, and then Lovino went home to swear about a human that abandoned him. Once in a while, he would mention that human by name, and he would sometimes feel as though he knew the human (but he didn't know because Antonio is a common name.)

_'Antonio…? Isn't that the human that's with Gilbert?' _He shrugged to himself, muttering something about ex-boyfriends and their habits of introducing their lovers that he really couldn't give a damn about. He muttered too lowly for the human to hear him, but he still worried. He still worried that the human would find him, and force him to act quickly.

There was no evidence, not one that he could see, but he somehow alerted the object of his desire of his location (and his hobby). More often than not, he'd hear the brunette muttering something about creepy stalkers, and their (fucking) lack of morals.

While he didn't mind being insulted by humans (in fact, he relished that they believed he was below them), he was slightly disturbed by the wording. Lovino made it sound like he had stalkers before, and it angered him for reasons that he didn't understand. He told himself that he was only upset about that because it obviously meant that another one of his kind wanted his blood (and he planned on being the only one feasting on that blood).

It was because of those revelations (which he came up with on his own) that he found himself staring longingly from his spot. It was a bit weird having to hide himself, but he wanted to know everything about his victim—it made it easier for him to decide when he would drain the blood from his victim.

The justification that he used was a bit much, he had to admit, and he wondered why he was trying to justify his actions in the first place—he had no one to justify them to but himself. It wasn't as weird as he thought it would be, but it didn't sound like himself. Usually, if he chose a person who would be missed, he wouldn't even have to hide the fact that he was interested in them, and would attack at the first moment possible. Yet here he is now, reduced to having to watch his victim out of fear. He wasn't even planning his first move.

There was an edge to his unusual nervousness, he realized, as he found that his target would often move away—even more than before. He was visiting his brother more (and calling his brother's lover a potato bastard and other things that should never be said in public—he also found that the "potato bastard's" name was Ludwig), and he would often visit this blonde that he immediately didn't like.

He couldn't get close enough—it felt like something was blocking him, but he couldn't be sure—and he could tell that Lovino was getting more and more comfortable with each passing minute with the American. While he couldn't hear, he could read his target's lips, and he thinks that Lovino was telling the American about his relief of losing a stalker. The American looked like he replied with something off-handed, something that didn't really matter in the whole of it.

He also tried to tell himself that there was nothing wrong with the American getting closer and closer and closer to the Italian boy, but he knew that he didn't like it—not at all. He wouldn't have minded, if he had the ability to overhear the conversation, if he had the ability to hear what the humans were saying to one another.

He also wanted to see his Lovino (when he started to think of Lovino as his, or bother to remember the human's name, he would never know) without anyone else between them. He wanted to have the ability to influence the human, make him choose the "devil" (or vampire) over his own kind (the humans).

He also wanted to make sure that the human wasn't contaminated, and he wanted to see that with his own eyes. He wanted to be the one to steal the human's virginity right before killing him—all in the act that often offended the incubi (like Roderich and Francis). He wanted to be the one who convinced him of the existence of mythical creatures (excluding his own), and he wanted him to scream in fear for him.

"I don't want you to go to anyone else," he whispered to himself, thinking of the one that he allowed to get away from him. The one he thought of was none other than Yao Wang, who soon went off with another Asian (he thought the name is Kiku).

He shook himself out of his depressing mood, and went the Italian's house (since he just noticed that Lovino had left.) When he got there, though, he saw the American—the same one Lovino was talking to earlier.

He shook himself out of his depressing mood, and went the Italian's house (since he just noticed that Lovino had left.) When he got there, though, he saw the American—the same one Lovino was talking to earlier.

"So, you're the stalker," the American said.

He could see everything within his vision being tinted red, but he didn't mind—he relished the feeling of anger, and he loved feeling more powerful than he usually did. "What's it to you?"

"Lovino doesn't like it." He could see that the American honestly believed that.

With an insignificant part of his mind, he heard Lovino growling about the American (Alfred, he'd called him) telling his name. He could also hear the American replying that it didn't matter (since he probably heard your name being said by another person before this).

"Does it matter? I want to be with him," he murmured before baring his fangs.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings for this chapter: USUK (does this really need a warning?), swearing, and... Russia acting like Romano?

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><p>He held the American (Alfred, his mind subconsciously told him) close to him, grinning about the blood he would feast on. He thought that maybe after he finished the American off, he would go and kill Lovino (yet the idea didn't appeal as much anymore). The more he thought of killing the American, the less appealing his blood became. He never liked the looks of him, and Ivan definitely didn't want his blood in him.<p>

It was ironic, he had to admit, when the door opened once again (right before he sunk his fangs into the American… or snapped his neck) to reveal a British person with the largest eyebrows he'd ever seen. He thought that the Brit would be a nice substitute for his dinner, but he couldn't look at him without registering something. The anger in his eyes—the one part of his body he can't look at while contemplating eating him—captivated him the most, though.

It was because behind the anger, he could see the fear in his eyes. He could see that the Briton was very concerned for the American, and he was thoroughly amused. "How did you find me~?" he asked in a too-cheerful voice. He prayed that the blonde would answer him.

The Brit didn't answer, but chose to glare at him. He didn't like that—he didn't like it at all.

"I think that—" Before he could continue, he was suddenly blasted away from the American. "I see. Magician, right~?"

He met one, a very long time ago. He thought it was near the time that he was created, but that could be wrong. The Magician knew about vampires (though, even back then, they were believed to burn in the sun), and he managed to incapacitate Ivan until Yao showed up to free him.

It was so long ago, and it was an unmemorable event—it wasn't a shock that he didn't remember much about the Magician in the first place. He barely remembers Yao saving him, yet he promised himself that night that he would savor that feeling.

He is also happy when he hears the Briton speaking for once (instead of glaring at him). The more he got the Brit to talk, the longer he could stall—and the longer he stalled, the less likely they were to kill him.

"Why does that matter?" the Brit asked, looking suspicious of the vampire.

"It's so interesting to see a Magician after so many years. I was beginning to wonder if they were extinct~" he cooed happily. He, while it might not have looked like it, was genuinely intrigued by the Magicians (and had tried to kidnap a few), but he wasn't successful (yet he had a suspicion that Eduard was one.)

He also noted that even if the Brit looked around what he assumed to be twenty-three, he could range anywhere from that age to a thousand years old (or maybe more). He also knew that even if Arthur was young, he was experienced—not many could pull off a spell like that silently (from what Yao told him).

He also decided, at that moment, to maybe kidnap the American—if he did that, he would be able to keep the Magician. If he kept the American (even though he was really annoying), he would get his chance to examine the Magicians who eluded him for many years. And, well, he would get a new thing for his collection.

Even as he planned this, he knew that the Brit would never agree to it—he'd find some way to kill himself, or make himself undesirable. He knew that the Briton would never tell him anything that he desired to know. It was painful thing, he had to admit—the object of his mind's desire (not his body's) would never come with him, and work with him.

He also knew that, if the Brit (Arthur, he heard the American whisper) was really what he thought he was to Alfred, he had no chance. He wasn't stupid or prideful enough to think that he'd win in a fight against two Magicians—even if one happened to be an apprentice (though, if he bothered to think of the fight with the American, he didn't show any skill in fighting a supernatural creature, so he could be wrong about the American's ability in casting spells). He barely won against one when he was new (and better at fighting), so he knew that fighting with both was suicide.

He had one choice left, one that he didn't want to use, but he didn't want to die either. So he lowered his guard. He allowed himself to slump to the floor in defeat. Even if he was acting like a helpless, weak creature, he was prepared—he was ready to attack, and maybe take one of them, if Lovino chose not to save him.

It wasn't that shocking (yet it was) that Lovino suddenly spoke up. "Leave. Now." He heard Lovino mutter, "Assholes." It wasn't the words that were shocking to him—it was the calm that surrounded him. Ivan thought that it may be the sexiest thing he's ever heard (not that he really cared about the sexual appeal of his next, delicious target.)

"We can't!" The American cried out. "He's a vampire, and he needs to be destroyed!"

"I said leave," Lovino said calmly (something Ivan never heard from him before.)

"We must destroy the creature," Arthur murmured. "Letting him live, that would be unbearable, something that would forever be a sin."

He could see Lovino's eyes light up, and he wondered what the Italian thought of. "Wouldn't that be the same as leaving Kiku, Arthur? Should I tell him that you left him for Alfred?" Ivan was curious as to where the Italian learned of this relationship—he didn't know Kiku had a fling with someone else (and he highly doubt that Yao knew… though, if he actually thought about it, Yao might have known, as he was defensive that time—which he assumes was a month ago—when he asked him about the location of Kiku. Then again, it could be two different people, as Kiku is a common Japanese name.)

Before the Brit could reply, Alfred spoke up and argued. "Hey! We both know that Arthur didn't mean that—he was also a vampire!" That only confirmed his suspicion on which Kiku they were talking about (but then again, he hasn't met that many vampires—him, his sister, Yao, Kiku, Gilbert, Antonio, Heracles and Sadiq—and he highly doubts that any of them met many vampires.)

"And you, Alfred, don't have that excuse," he heard Lovino mutter, "not that they exist in the first place."

"Huh?"

"You left Ludwig, the potato bastard that hangs around my brother—I still blame you for that! Should I tell him that you were cheating on him during that time—that you were with Arthur when you were dating him?"

They both faltered at the hidden threat (that pleased Ivan even more than ever), and he feared that, if he were to stop to think of it, he would have to admit that he lusted for the Italian's body more than he lusted for the blood. Yet he couldn't help but admit that the threats made him admire the Italian even more than before.

"I don't think you understand the risks," Arthur cautioned. "You don't know anything about these vampires." He felt like bristling at the comment—he made it sound like they were bad people (sure they killed people, but they were helping keep balance in the population, and they helped the police out by targeting criminals.)

"And who the fuck says I believe you? You know, for people who say they're my friends, you come up with pretty shitty excuses for what you're doing." He could see that Lovino was starting to lose that calm, and it amused him.

Arthur's eyes darkened. "Are you sure that you want to save him? Think about it carefully, Lovino."

Lovino's squared his shoulders, and replied, "Yes, I'm sure, fucker. Just leave—now." He never knew that Lovino could sound so scary, so commanding. He's heard Lovino scream and shout, and he heard him whimper in fear, but he never heard this hidden edge—he loved this tone of voice the most.

Arthur turned his back to Lovino, and called to Alfred. The both of them were exiting, as far as Lovino was concerned.

"You'll regret it, Lovino," they said in sync as they left him and Lovino in the room. He barely registered their good-byes—he was too interested in Lovino's mood swings—at one moment, he could sound calm, then he could start screaming and cursing the next moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings for this chapter: Homestuck references (which are probably wrong), swearing, and a bipolar Romano.

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><p>Ivan felt accomplished, yet he also felt a bit disappointed—Lovino had fallen for his charm (or so he likes to believe). He would also like to think that he was saved because the other believed that he should be pitied (and not feared).<p>

If he had to be completely honest, he also feared that he was losing his evilness. He knew that all demons were created to be evil, to plague the earth with their sins, and to cause others to sin as well as them. If he were to actually look at it, he was supposed to be the very image of evil, the very image of fear.

It didn't matter, though, as he had to thank his "savior" in the best way possible (which makes him think that maybe, maybe he was becoming more like an incubus).

He also knew that, despite what he believes, he may not be able to reach out to the person he wants. He knew that, even if he tried his best, he would lose Lovino if did one thing wrong.

He knows that, if he were to look at his situation too closely, he'd see things that he didn't want to see. He knew that it would end this way, subconsciously, but it still hits as hard as it would have if he had not known long before this.

It was not a nice thought, falling in love with someone, but it still didn't amuse him (or make him open to anything) because the person he fell in love with was a human. While it didn't mean anything to him (usually), he did have a reputation that was depending on his ability to love someone other than a human. He also knew that he was someone that many young vampires look up to (something that he doesn't take lightly), and that falling in love with a human wouldn't send a positive message.

Then, he looks up to the human (Lovino, his mind happily supplied), and decides that he doesn't care about their opinions—not that he ever cared for them before. He doesn't care that he'll lose his so-called terror, but it was worth it if he could get Lovino to look at him with such happiness, with love.

Of course, he has no such luck with that, and instead is left with Lovino now seething with barely concealed rage (that really made no difference because he was too high on his newfound love). Ivan has no choice but to hear the harsh breathing, and to wonder about his love's sudden mood swing. Last time he checked, which was just a minute ago, Lovino was as calm as the sky is when there is no sign of a storm, yet now, he looks prepared to snap, to bring the curtain down on his calm façade.

In what he hoped would be perceived as a smooth, innocent move, and not as an attempt to get Lovino to snap even more, he murmured, "You fell for me so quickly." Before he knew it, the brunette exploded, screaming horrible words that should never be heard.

"YOU—YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE! I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT TO ME!"

While he griped about being accused of something so untrue, which he took as his instant denial (a habit of his that Ivan named without asking), he couldn't help but to chuckle at the brunette's expression. He looked so angered, so frustrated, yet he couldn't help but to find it adorable.

His face was flushed red from the anger (and maybe the lack of oxygenated blood to the head, since he believed that Lovino wasn't breathing while he ranted), his eye were bright with some emotion (anger, Ivan's mind "helpfully" supplied), and he wouldn't look at him while he ranted.

All in all, Ivan believed that this was all that he needed—the brunette's denial sounded like one he would use to avoid telling the truth. It was like he knew what he was after, and he knew that he wouldn't stop for anything, as long as he could get the item of his desire.

That would have to wait, though, as Lovino suddenly stopped. He didn't expect the Italian to stop mid-way through his rant, but, by the look on his face, he suddenly realized that he was so out of it that he didn't notice that the cute human boy finished his rant long ago.

It didn't really matter, he thought, as Lovino would soon break out with another rant (probably longer than the first one), but he doesn't mind because it's Lovino, the cute, little boy who'd won his heart (quite suddenly, he had to admit.)

He had to admit that while he may not be that enthusiastic to meet Yao again (especially since his lover, Kiku, was out to kill him—something he failed at), he might just look him up. He wanted to go to his former boyfriend—he thought that was appropriate for Yao—and show him that he was able to find a mate.

He knew that he would soon have to introduce Lovino to the world of the supernatural, and convince him it's real, and he knew that Lovino wouldn't pay any attention to him. He knew that he would have to teach Lovino of the behavior expected of demons—of the devils—but he knew that Lovino was a Catholic (and therefore wary of the devils).

He thought of the screwed up things Kiku mentioned to him (Homestuck, he thought quite suddenly), and he thought of the names he mentioned for the trolls. More specifically, he thought of the names of the types of relationships—Matesprit, Morailes, and Kismesis—the ones that mattered. He knew that there was another one (one with a troll being a mediator for the Kismesis relationship), but it didn't matter to him.

Then he realized that he had yet to do what he planned on doing, and he planned on completing it sometime this night—he assumed it was a little past seven by the position of the moon (and the date). He assumed that Lovino would have no problem with his plan—he rarely complains about him, now that he thinks about it.

He realized that Lovino didn't care for the creepiness, that Lovino was fine with him stalking him for the most part. He realized that Lovino was fine with him being him—he was fine with the bipolar tendencies he would often show, and he's fine with the childish attitude. He realized that he only complains about the lack of tact, if only that.

He realized that he never heard Lovino cry in rage about his "heartless" state—not that he willingly showed it to him. He thought that he only showed it once (when he was in too close proximity with his target, and there was a very annoying human), but that may be wrong, and he may have shown it on multiple occasions (if he actually bothered to think back on it, he would realize that he has shown it many, many times—up to the point that it doesn't matter).

He doesn't notice the anger that has receded from his gaze, and therefore leaving an awe that he doesn't register, but he suddenly heard Lovino clear his throat, as if to catch his attention. He smiled in what he hoped was a warm gesture, and he sees Lovino roll his eyes, and he noticed that Lovino was acting the same way he was acting around his brother.

He doesn't understand what changed so suddenly that Lovino could bear to be next to him without fear—maybe the fear had never been there, and he just never noticed. There were many things that he wanted to question, but he was getting ahead of himself, and therefore making a fool out of himself. It would do him no good to make himself look more idiotic than he already looked (he wouldn't be able to get very far if it was that).

But, now, he had to tackle the huge problem—his Lovino was currently expecting something from him, something that he couldn't answer honestly. The Italian had already shown distaste towards the supernatural; he assumes that it's part of being raised during the late twentieth century and living in the twenty-first century. He doesn't think his task will be easy (in fact, he thinks it'll be downright impossible), but he will still try. He will still try to convince the Italian of the supernatural world—one that has werewolves, vampires, witches and other creatures.

It wasn't something that he was really happy to attempt to do, but he knew that he couldn't expect Lovino to stay with him (and it'd be near impossible to explain why he wasn't aging in the first place—might allow Lovi to realize that there are many creatures out there, though.) He realized that Lovino would be waiting for his explanation of what happened, something that he doesn't want to do for said reasons, but he, like he mentioned before, had to.

He liked the fact that he would be able to spend time with Lovi, though. He wanted to be able to go right up to him, wrap his arms around his waist, and pick him up. He wanted it so badly that it was an undeniable urge—he found himself holding Lovi close to him, and pressing his lips against his neck. While the blood flowing through the veins tempted him, he was able to repress the urge with the thought of the agony that would follow if Lovi was to ever die.

He chuckled softly as he murmured, "Those idiots were right. Those idiots were telling the truth. I am a vampire."

He wasn't expecting the sudden attack from Lovi, but he found Lovino's fist going for his face. He easily held him back, but it was irritating, that his future lover was attacking him. He didn't like it; he didn't like it at all. It was a hard feat, but he managed to accomplish what he wanted—he was calm and cool, avoiding the imminent snap that would kill his future lover.

"Vampire my ass," Lovino suddenly muttered. "If you're a vampire, why don't you sparkle?"

He found himself smiling evilly at his Italian, and he muttered, "Those cursed books are nothing but lies about the vampire race. We don't sparkle, yet we're not harmed by the sun. In fact, if the sun is out, the only thing that's affected is our mood. Vampires are very, very irritated when exposed to the sun."

"That only answers one thing. Why aren't your eyes red or whatever color they are when you are full?" Lovino was really testing his patience, which wasn't a good thing for either of them.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but my eyes are red. Only my eyes, and Gil's eyes—if you really count him—are red for reasons we don't know. My eyes are purple in color, though, because of the contact lenses I'm forced to wear," he said. "If it weren't for that, then you'd see scary red eyes."

He could see that Lovino wasn't placated yet, though. He could see, through the anger, that something else was lingering there. He could see that Lovino still didn't believe him, and he could see that his hurtful comments was just his way of saying that he's not one to be fucked with—it still hurt him, even knowing all of that.

"Do you drink animal blood?" He could hear the mocking tone, could hear that he honestly believed that he, Ivan, would drink the blood of such lowly creatures. It angered him even more than before—he was beyond furious. Even though he was holding back the urge to kill him, his vision wasn't tainted red, and he could clearly see his target. It terrified him.

"I don't know where you got such a ridiculous idea, but I don't drink poisonous blood." While animal blood didn't kill vampires, the blood did sap some of their strength. It wasn't the worst thing that's ever happen, he would admit, but it was bad enough—even he knew the power that comes from being fully fed.

"Oh, looks like that book is bullshit," he heard Lovino muttered to himself. "Are you sure that you're a vampire?" He could hear the skeptical edge in his voice, and if he had been paying attention to the psychological state of the twenty-first century instead of his anger, he would have realized that it was only because of his upbringing that he doubted the supernatural world—he didn't think anything bad of Ivan (or so he hoped.)

"Yes, I am a vampire," he hissed through his teeth. At normal times, he would love the ignorance of the humans—he didn't like the humans that tried to use garlic and stakes—but he was actually being hurt by his ignorance. "Maybe I have to show you." Even as he said that, he wondered about how he could actually accomplish that.

"By what? Biting me?" His voice still had that taunting edge to it, and that just made it worse for Ivan. He clenched his teeth, turned, and fled the scene. He could see that he was really close to biting Lovino, and killing him. Even then, with the sane side of him telling him to stay away from Lovi, he found himself looking for the Italian, but found an empty home with no hint of the Italian.

This pattern of him disappearing and Ivan not being able to find him continued for at least a week before Ivan got fed up with it, and hunted him down. The fact that he found Lovino in his house that day, plus the fact that it was noon, didn't make him the most tolerant person on the planet, and that's how he found himself standing in front of Lovino with his fangs bared (again).

"You stayed away from me," he whispered softly, sounding kind and caring—it almost made him laugh. "You said you loved me—" he listened to Lovino automatically argue against that point, but continued. "—but you keep running away from me."

"Fuck! I don't love you, you bastard! WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT?" He silently laughed as the Italian ranted (once again) about how he was creepy, how he was annoying, but never mentioned that he would like Ivan to leave his house.

"Do you want me to leave~?" He couldn't help but to allow himself to grin that 'creepy' grin that would often cause cardiac arrest within the human population. "Do you want to send me away~?"

"Yes! I've been telling you that!"

Ivan chuckled at the blatant lie. "I'll leave~" He grinned, looking like a maniac. "And I'll take you with me~"

He could see it on Lovino's face, and it was like he could actually hear Lovino's thoughts. He knew that the Italian wished that he never sent away the two magicians—Alfred and Arthur.


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings for this chapter: NiChu, uh... random confessions, Russia.

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><p>"Are you PMSing or something?" He could see the signs of fear, the accelerated heartbeat, the sweating, but he couldn't console himself with that, and he found himself growling in anger.<p>

"I told you, I'm a vampire." He practically growled the sentence.

"And I told you, mother fucker, that you're still gay and sparkly!" The red haze that he would love to have at this moment didn't appear, and he could clearly see his target, as before. He still didn't like it, and he found that he was getting angrier while his vision was sharpening—it's not unusual for a vampire's vision to sharpen, but it's unusual for the target not to be surrounded by a red haze.

It was a bit frightening, he had to admit, but it only seemed to sharpen his focus, which was shifting between Lovino and the door—he was planning on running, if things seemed too difficult to handle.

"What, gay vampire? Things got too manly for you?" He could hear the taunting tone, and he just snapped. He found himself flying at Lovino, grabbing him by his neck, and biting into it. While he did that, it felt as though he was just watching the events unfold, not actually doing anything—he didn't really understand what was happening.

He suddenly found Lovino's unconscious body in his arms, and he flew to the Italian's room, planning on staying with him until he woke up—he realized that it wouldn't work that way because he bit Lovino, and the only thing that could happen is that the Italian would transform into a vampire like him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Lovino, and fled the scene as soon as he set him on the bed.

His feet, which he didn't have control over, moved him towards the east, and he soon found himself in Japan. _'Maybe,'_ he thought, _'I subconsciously wanted to meet Yao and Kiku again.'_ He doesn't deny that it would be a good idea, that there would be something nice, and he finds himself laughing at the idea of actually running into them.

Ivan found himself in the district of Kyoto—a beautiful city, he had to admit, with numerous tourist attractions. "I know you're here~" he called out to the open air, yet he knew that Yao and Kiku could hear him—he could hear them muttering to each other, and he knew the pair was following him.

"We'll speak to you later," he heard Yao murmur in perfect English—Yao was able to articulate better English than half the people he's ever met. He spent another moment imaging that they were in love (instead of Yao being with Kiku), and realized that he wasn't as hurt about it as he was before he met Lovino.

"Sure," he muttered to nothing in particular, yet he knew the two would understand that he got their message. He was actually undecided on whether or not he would meet the two vampires because if he did, he would have to explain why he's here, and why he ran away from a human.

He wasn't ready to explain anything, though. He didn't want to tell them of his weakness—he didn't want to explain his pathetic behavior. He knew that this behavior was not recommended for any vampire, especially one like him who was responsible for scaring half the humans in Russia.

Somehow, in some weird way, he found himself standing in front of an old building—it looked as if it was falling down. He knew Yao, though, and he knew that Yao would choose a place like this to meet him. It was like him—the location was remote, and he doubted that it's near the place he and Kiku were staying. "Yao," he called out into the open space softly, waiting to hear the reply that would indicate that he was there (with Kiku, most likely.)

"In here." The reply was barely a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear—it was from the back of the building, if his ears were as good as he thought they were. It was a bit harder than he thought it would be, but he found Yao and Kiku within an hour.

"Why are you here?" It wasn't Yao that spoke, but Kiku, to Ivan's surprise.

He quickly recomposed himself, and answered the question. "I came to visit."

"We know you were coming, but we didn't think it would be this soon." The dead monotone was still evident in Kiku's voice, yet he heard a bit of curiosity within his voice.

"I was planning on coming," Ivan said. "So does it matter?" He waited for an answer, which he subconsciously knew was going to be "yes", so he was a bit shocked to hear the answer "no".

The trio made small talk, the topics flowing smoothly one after another. He mentioned that their food source is becoming more infuriating with each new "vampire" book, and that some were even asking him if he was gay and sparkly.

Yao chuckled when he heard that, and he saw a faint hint of a smirk on Kiku's face, and he knew that the two of them didn't run into this problem… yet—he was still waiting for it.

"I assume that's why you're here," Kiku murmured suddenly. "Which human was annoying you?" He swore, he could see Kiku silently laughing at his expense.

He paused for a second, trying to decide on how to word the situation he faced within the month. "I met a human… who smelled really good. Those humans, the ones we met, were nothing compared to him when it comes to how good they smell. His scent was mouth-watering, and it would be enough to cause the best-behaved vampires insane with desire.

"Yet, when I first cornered him, something told me to stop. It was weird, as if some part of me didn't want to kill him." He stopped suddenly, thinking that he went too far.

"I see," he heard Yao say. "I know what you mean."

"You do?" He never heard Yao mention this problem to him—which was a bit aggravating, considering that they were supposed to be confidants.

"With… Kiku." All of a sudden, he could see why Yao never told him about that—he knew that this was something special, and the only people who should hear are the people affected or the people who already went through it.

"I understand." He only said it for Yao's benefit—he could imagine the older male beating himself up for not telling his "best friend" about the circumstance that caused him to fall in love with Kiku. He didn't blame Yao for it—he never could, especially now that Yao was helping him untangle this mess of things that were suddenly in knots.

_'Love… Fall in love… FUCK! I fell in love with that Italian.'_ He knew that he teased Lovino about falling in love with him, and that he thought the Italian was his, but he never thought he would fall in love with his food. He thought Lovino was his because Lovino, in technicality, was his food, and only his. He also loved to see the blood rush to his cheeks (showing him the delicious meal that awaited), and he would say things just to see him blush.

Ivan shook himself out of those dangerous thoughts, and went back to talking with Yao and Kiku.

The week went by quickly, most of which were filled with talking and finding good food sources, but he knew that he would have to visit Lovino and see if he changed.

The others were at first terrified and shocked when he told them that he bit Lovino and ran, but they managed to help him cope with it. Now, he had to go and make sure that Lovino wasn't causing any trouble that could be linked back to him—at least, he hoped Lovino cared enough to keep a low profile.

Even with the mental preparations, and the encouraging things Yao and Kiku said (when Kiku wasn't trying to kill him), he still wasn't prepared for the sight that met him. Standing with a knife, and maybe some other things, was Lovino, glowering with a murderous look. Ivan found that he wished that he'd brought Yao and Kiku back with him, to maybe cool down the rage.


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings for this chapter: Long chapter (~5000 word), Russia rambling, etc... Oh, Twilight bashing.

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><p>In a way, the sudden appearance of Gilbert Beilschmidt was a blessing and a curse all in one—he provided the needed distraction (which kept him alive… for now), but he brought Antonio with him, which wasn't shocking. He could see that his first suspicion, which was that Lovino was once Antonio Fernandez Carriedo's lover, was true.<p>

While he wasn't one to be bothered by the relationships that humans would often go through, he knew that he would feel jealous because of his recent realization. Even when expecting it, he didn't expect the emotions to be this raw, to be this powerful, and it nearly took his breath away.

He was barely able to hold it in—he believed he was trembling while Antonio and Lovino "talked"—but Gilbert was oblivious as always, which was a good thing at this point. He could allow himself to relish the feeling of jealousy, at least for a little while, and relish the feeling of being human.

He also knew that he had no experience expressing his love to someone. He barely knew what the difference was between jealousy and anger, if he actually thought about it. He knew that there was something else in the air, behind the calm that Lovino showed his former lover. He thought he knew Lovino well enough to be able to read his moods.

"Gilbert, please leave." He hoped he had a pleasant smile on his face while he said this, indicating that he wouldn't hesitate to torture him before tossing him out. It may have taken his former lover to get the threat, but he understood and ran with Antonio following him.

Before Antonio left (and after he started to pay attention to Lovino and Antonio's conversation), he heard Lovino use cuss words (words that he would never repeat), and he heard Antonio trying to explain the situation that was presented to him because of Gilbert; even with the valid excuses, he knew that Lovino would not be placated, and would become angrier with each "lie", which was the truth, as he, Ivan, was in a place to know.

He chuckled softly, wondering if Lovino would ever believe him—he didn't believe Antonio even though he was affected by the same thing Antonio was affected by. Ivan also wondered about the lack of faith from Lovino, and was a little worried about what his reaction would be to his confession, but he pushed it aside—Lovino wouldn't mind if he confessed his love; it didn't have anything to do with the supernatural… or maybe it did. If it did, he didn't understand how that worked—he didn't know why his feelings would be affected just because he's a mythical creature.

He could barely believe his ears when he heard Lovino growl suddenly—he turned to the Italian, and he saw the anger on his face. "Is there something wrong, Lovi~?" Even then, he could see that Lovino was taking offence in whatever Antonio said. It made his blood boil—another reason for him to hate the Spanish male, who already irritated him. He shrugged it off, and muttered, "I love that you think that he's so good."

"What do you mean?" He could see the confusion painted on Lovino's face; it was cute, as he knew he would think of Lovino, and he could not help but to smile at the reaction that warmed him on the inside, along with something else. He was confused as to what that feeling was, the mixture of anxiety and euphoria, but he realized that it was a result of his love for the Italian.

He badly wanted to say those three damning words, but found himself tongue-tied when it came to expressing that love. Instead, he found himself staring longingly at Lovino, waiting for him to confess his love to him (as he knew Lovino would be.) He was a bit disappointed to find Lovino only staring at the ground, seemingly embarrassed about something.

"Spit it out," he commanded in a bit too harsh voice. He somewhat regretted the tone he used, but he didn't regret it enough to take back what he said. He was actually proud of himself because he sounded like his old self instead of being a sick, disgusting person in love.

It was something that scared him, but it was also something that made him wonder if the hype about falling in love was just that—a hype. The other was a bit amusing, even when not doing anything. It somehow disgusted him, though—he knew he was responsible for the lack of response, somehow, but he was able to smile his normal smile, but with effort.

He could see the strain in Lovino's face—absently, he wondered once again about the Italian's sudden mood change. Even with the changes, caused by his transformation, he could see that most of the Italian's personality stayed with him; the only part missing was his disbelief of the supernatural (which was expected.)

"The fucker didn't bother to come up with a believable excuse," Lovino muttered under his breath. "'I had no choice,' my ass. 'I love you, but I can't choose you. I would be with you if I could.' Shows me how much he actually cared. At least the assholes who cheat on those beautiful girls come up with a viable excuse, and at least they act like they care."

He acted as if he didn't hear what Lovino said; he acted as if he wasn't one of those people that Lovino mentioned. He didn't want to admit it, like those others that he knows, but he was one of those "cheating boyfriends". He knew that he did those things to attract his food, and that it was only done to make sure that he had a meal when he needed it, but he didn't want to be viewed in that light as every other cheater—he didn't want Lovi to hate him the same way he hated Antonio.

For that to happen, Lovino would have to love him in the first place, he realized. It was a euphoric feeling, to think that maybe, maybe, Lovino actually loved him instead of acting like that—maybe that's how he acted around other people, though. Maybe Lovino just swears at everyone he meets—at least, for the guys. He saw Lovino smile warmly and treat females as though they're the most precious thing on the Earth, and maybe, to him, they are.

He thought of the way he reacted to Ludwig, and realized that the reactions were almost the same—he figured that Lovino would react a little differently to each person. He doesn't like that he's in the same category as the "potato bastard", but then, he never liked being insulted by anyone. He didn't like the feeling of being inferior to a newborn, one that he could quite easily take out. If he had to give any credit to Antonio, it would be his ability to ignore Lovino—no newborn ever had the power to resist the lure of human blood. If he thought about it, the only one who ignored human blood would be the weird clan that lives south of Russia, in Mongolia.

In fact, if he really thought about Antonio and his weird ability, he would think it's one of those talents that vampires pull with them—it seemed some of the vampires needed more help than others. This ability, however, wouldn't be an added offense to Antonio's arsenal; in fact, it would only be a hindrance, the ability he exhibited, to be able to resist the thirst that tore at most newborns.

In fact, even the mature vampire had trouble resisting the temptation that was known as human blood. If he bothered to think deeply into the situation at hand, he knew that he would see that Antonio's ability actually could help him disguise himself as a human—he would draw less attention than a normal vampire.

If he bothered to actually consider the benefits of Antonio's abilities, he would think that Gilbert had scored with the findings of the younger vampire—if he could have the other to act somewhat human, he would have an easier chance to obtain food. He also knew that if he had found Antonio, they would have grated on each other's nerves, but he also knew that he would be a lot happier, but maybe more depressed as a whole.

He won't deny that Antonio somehow had the ability to spread happiness as if it was a tangible thing that anyone could touch. He wouldn't deny that the ability has helped him out in the past—it often stopped him from massacring the whole population within a city. Sometimes, it would become a hindrance—whenever they had to fight someone else, Antonio's happiness made them (him and Gilbert) completely useless in the situation.

Overall, if he thought about Antonio too much, he'd be confronted with a man that had too many abilities that weren't really useful, and a headache. He also had the feeling that if he thought about Antonio for too long, he would be confronted with something that he'd rather not think about—Antonio would have made a perfect mate had he not met Lovino (and had Antonio not met Gilbert.) Ivan liked to think of the might have been—they might have been happy together had Gilbert and Lovino not existed. Fate was against them, so they never did become mates, as a different future indicated.

This thought process only took five seconds, and he was still somewhat listening to the silence that had accompanied Lovino—he was wondering about the next rant he knew Lovino would come up with. Instead, he found Lovino walking quite calmly towards him—he sighed, and waited for the accusations that would soon flow out of the Italian's mouth.

"What do you want me to say, Lovino?" Ivan thought it would be best to get this over with, and start the interrogation by asking the question that would start a torrent of questions or demands. Even while bracing himself, he never could expect what Lovino would ask him next.

"What the fuck happened, bastard?" He wasn't shocked by the words Lovino used to ask the question, but rather, he was shocked by the tone that the question was asked in—it was as if he was dead, and that the body is now some type of robot. He was even more shocked by the mask that protected him—not even Ivan could read Lovino's expression.

"I told you, Lovino, I am a vampire. Since I am a vampire, I changed you when I bit you." He didn't mean to deadpan the whole statement, but Lovino's tone affected his own tone—he responded to the tone. "You should be fine since you know Antonio really well." He didn't mean to say that, but it came out on its own.

He watched Lovino to see if he would cry suddenly, or if he would just suddenly start swearing at him. Instead, he found himself looking into a dull, emotionless eyes—it reminded him of Kiku, the way that he would look at you as though he could see into your soul, and protect his own soul by covering all emotions that would originally linger in them. It was a frightening sight because, as mentioned before, Lovino didn't seem to be the type that would be calculating, or cold—he was the one that should be crying in anger, and the one that should be trying to cuss someone out. He didn't like seeing Lovi like this, like a calculating, uncaring person. It frightened him, and it made him feel as though he was staring into a mirror that showed the opposite of what was reality; it made him wonder about how he was portrayed.

Maybe it was something like him being a nice, sane person—he knew it wouldn't happen. Being a vampire for so long (and being lonely) that he had to have some sort of mental defect, but he didn't think that it would cause something like the creature that was himself to be created. Obviously, he hadn't expected to think this deeply about his own species, and himself.

He could see that he wasn't meant to be surrounded by humans, yet they still are seen near humans. He knew that vampires aren't the best at adapting, as their bodies don't change, but they needed the (pathetic) humans to survive the days that faced them. It only takes their blood to save them, and to nourish them—he knew that it never made sense, but he wasn't one to question it.

If he honestly thought about that matter, he would realize that the vampires were incorrectly portrayed as the dead—the species that is known as a vampire is very much alive as anyone else is. Ivan knew that the humans saw them as inhuman, as a species that shouldn't be alive because they take lives willingly. If that was the case, though, then wouldn't half of the human's population be inhuman like the other demons they've condemned.

If he bothered to analyze the ways of the humans, he knew he would see them as evil as the "demons" they portray, if not even more. If he were to look at their actions, he knew he would see the humans as the epitome of evil—they were hypocrites, they were destroying the earth from the inside out, and they tried to bullshit their way with others.

He knew that the humans were capable of bringing the demons to their knees, if they allowed the humans to know of their existence, and that their own kind would be wiped out. He knew that the vampires would be the most sought after (since they were responsible for most death), and the succubi and incubi would be soon destroyed, until the only species left was the trolls.

It wouldn't work, he knew, to eliminate the human population, and to live in a somewhat symbiosis relationship with the other mythical creatures—not only could they not get along with each other, they needed the humans to sustain their lives. He knew that the vampires would one day turn against the other mythical creatures if the humans were to ever die off—they needed blood, and the other creatures were full of it.

If the vampires didn't kill anyone, the succubi and the incubi would be after everyone—they needed sex to live, and most lived for the thrills that followed sex, anyways. He knew that the other creatures would become protective, and they would start fighting because of the prostitute's "innocent" actions—it would cause a war between the many species of creatures that humans nowadays didn't believe in. Not only would it be imprudent, it would just cause even more destruction within the earth, and it wouldn't help it out in the first place.

That was, if the nightmarish creatures could be convinced of the cause. If the mythical creatures couldn't unite and fight the common enemy, humans, then there would be no future without the humans—there would be no future with just themselves.

If he had to think of the ramifications that were involved with the subject, he would give himself a headache, and maybe make himself even more ambitious than before.

If he honestly knew the difference between the words that he was about to pour out to Lovino, then maybe, his explanation would make more sense. If he knew how to explain what he was about to say, then maybe he would be able to tell Lovino about what it means to be a vampire.

If he knew what being a vampire actually entailed, and not just the rumors that humans love to spread, he would be able to tell the tale without the lies and the viciousness that would leave his mouth—he spent too much time with humans if he was considering their legends as part of truth, even if he knew that the legends that they've spread were mostly lies.

"I don't know what humans say about me, and I don't know what they think of vampires, but your understanding seems to be a bit… less than what I'm used to. Vampires, to humans, were ones that burned in the sun, were the beautiful undead, and that often will kill the 'innocent'." He chuckled darkly as he said this because he knew that the words he spoke were ironic.

He knew that many of his kind never targeted the pure and innocent—they loved those types of people too much—but they almost always went after the criminals. The only time he could see his own kind going off and killing an innocent person would be if they found a special person, a special feast. That was the only occasion that the vampires would break their own routines.

"I guess, for starters, we could see what the sun does to you." He then glanced outside to find that it was sometime during the night. "Or not. I'll just have to explain it to you," he muttered. "Vampires do not burn in the sun, as you have seen many times. If they did burn in the sun, I wouldn't have followed you as often as I did."

As much as Ivan hated revealing this, he was trying to please his lover by being honest. He would do anything if it meant that Lovino would believe him, and if it would make Lovino hate him a little less—he assumed Lovino hated him because the Italian regarded him with as much affection as he would to Ludwig, who also gets on his nerves for some reason.

He couldn't help but to think deeply about certain matters during crises—it was a habit of his, and it was something that he couldn't stop at this moment. He somewhat didn't want to stop anyways—it was a distraction of his, and he would take any distractions he could. Especially if on the other side of the distraction was an angry Italian that could undoubtedly cuss him out.

He flinched at the thought of having to deal with Lovino's skeptic nature towards the supernatural, but he would have to explain the parts that have undoubtedly plagued him since he ran away about a week ago—but, then again, the transformation would take about a week, so he couldn't have woken up that long ago.

"Going with that, the sun doesn't leave us completely unaffected—I guess we're affected the same way some humans are. We tend to get irritable—or moody—whenever we come into direct contact with the sun. And sometimes, though it is thought to be rarely, we will act on those impulses and massacre an entire village—that was only when the people believed in us.

"That doesn't mean that the humans know the difference between burning, literally, and burning with 'emotion'. Humans, when they come upon the text offered by their ancestors, say that we vampires literally burn in the sun, which is false. They also say that it's impossible for us vampires to enter houses without permission when, in reality, we only enter with permission because it's the right thing to do— not that killing people is right, in the humans' opinions.

"Obviously, I'll have to explain the transformation. If you want an explanation that actually makes sense, hunt down those goody-two-shoes doctors that are also vampires. They know more than I do— I only know the basics of the transformation process. So, from what I remember, there is something within the vampire's saliva that turns the person into a vampire. There is temptation, though— the vampire wants the blood, and the human wants to be freed from the pain.

"Of course, there is the pain, which almost everyone remembers even if they don't want to. The human's mind is interesting, as it will show moments of agony over and over again, yet won't recall most of the sweet, wonderful moments." He chuckled to show the amusement he felt. "They want to remember the good times, as they call it, but can only remember the horrors that they've seen, and the troubles they've run in to.

"There is the fact that there is also a time period in which we can call the vampires that were recently transformed a 'newborn'. It is a hard time to be a vampire when being a newborn, and having to deal with the temptation that is the humans' blood. The newborns generally have more difficulty dealing with the temptation, which is nearly impossible to ignore. They go into a crazed state every time they run into a person that has what can quench the thirst.

"The newborn grows out of that temptation, somehow, and then it learns that it must only target humans that won't be reported missing—it could cause trouble for us, as they will be looking for people that most likely were seen near the murder scene. It would also indicate our presence, that of the mythical world. We can't do that in fear of being eradicated.

"Despite what you may think, the mythical creatures are in danger of being destroyed by the pathetic humans. Even the magicians know that they have a better chance against a vampire than an armed human." He stopped suddenly, fearing that he revealed too much to Lovino. He didn't want to make the vampire species sound so… weak and pathetic, but it was the truth, what he said. It was sadly the only thing he could do to sum up the abilities humans had.

"There is another part to the vampire world and the mythical world if you want to look at it that way. The vampires often will gain an extra ability that may help them or harm them. Those with helpful abilities are often hunted by other vampires who either want to destroy the competition or who want to gain help and an extra 'friend.'

"If I had to explain a vampire, it would be that the species as a whole is a solitary species. They often don't like to team up with others as they are a bit… annoying to work with, and that they don't trust anyone who is like them—a vampire. Vampires are skeptical of every alliance—with good reason. Vampires are bound to betray those that they work with.

"The only exception to the rule is their mate. If they somehow fall in love with a human, generally, then they will stay with the human—or vampire, depending on if they transform the human or not. If they were transformed, then the two lovers could spend eternity with each other—at least, as long as they both survived. Going with that, if the human is left alone, then the vampire will die as soon as their lover is dead, or commit suicide since vampires don't have the ability to 'commit suicide'.

"Generally, all you would really have to do is enrage another vampire—our kind is easily offended, and easily enraged. It is a bit difficult, though, if you somehow manage to create a group with members that will avenge you. As you've probably read in that horrible book _Twilight_, you know what the group will do if someone was to kill you—it would be a fight to the death."

He smiled suddenly, as if thinking of a happy time where everyone he cared for was okay while his enemies were withering in pain. He liked that his world, which he thought up within a short amount of time—he wanted to stay within that world, and he wanted to make sure that someone else would be there to suffer while he could laugh with an emotion akin to happiness—shit, he's rambling about the usual plus more again.

"If it were to get to that stage, well, it wouldn't be easy to hide from the human population, though they just might sum it up to be 'special effects'. It would be difficult to look away from the carnage that would start, but it would also be horrible to look at the carnage that would happen. It's an impossible concept to think of, theoretically, but it would be a thing that's understandable once seen.

"If I honestly had to sum up the horror that awaits those that witness it, it would have to be the horror of waiting. The humans that witness our vampiristic nature wait for the vampires to come upon them, and wait for the punishment that will come—in all honesty, the people that are 'punished' are viewed as food, not as a subject that saw something they never should've saw."

He smiled in what he hoped looked like an apologetic smile, and told Lovino that he didn't mean to reveal so much. He also mentioned that he was sorry if he frightened the Italian, in which Lovino replied that he wasn't scared by his stories, but he knew better than to believe that—he could see the horror-stricken expression when he told him about the deaths, and could see a flicker of pain when he mentioned the transformation process, in which the victim is practically burned alive.

The thought of Lovino remembering the transformation suddenly brought up a desire to apologize to him. He stood up, and whispered, "I'm sorry you had to go through that, my love. I didn't mean to bite you, and I didn't mean to lose control like that." He pretended to not notice the way Lovino suddenly tensed when he whispered into his ear, most likely breathing cool air onto it—he didn't have a self-maintained body temperature, after all. He needed heat to stay warm enough to be considered a human, and he would be about as cold as a "vampire" from the Twilight series if he were to stay out of the sunlight, or any heat source.

"Do you forgive me?" He continued to whisper in what he somewhat hoped was a seductive voice, until a sudden gasp made him realize that Lovino was more concerned about his next meal than sex at this moment. "Right, you want to hunt."

He held out his hand, and Lovino grudgingly took it—he could've laughed at the moment, but chose not to in fear of upsetting his love. Instead, he listened to Lovino as he growled "angrily" at him that he shouldn't have such a "fucking smug smile and to fucking stop smiling".

Ivan couldn't help but to laugh, and he said, "I will, when you stop being so cute~" He watched Lovino, wondering if it was possible for vampires to blush, but put that aside when he realized Lovino was thinking of something else altogether.

The Italian looked about as thoughtful as he did when Ivan had first met him—he looked as if he was trying to decide the best course of action. He was trying to decide on whether or not he should tempt Lovino into his room, and then having his way with the Italian, when he was suddenly dragged out of the house.

He chuckled at the motion, but froze when he saw the crazed, thirsty look in his eyes—he couldn't help but to shiver in fear at the horror that awaited anyone who was unlucky enough to catch his attention. It was a bit sad, if he were to think of it, that Lovino would not look at him like that. He would like to have those eyes on him, and he wanted to have the brown eyes either glare with passionate emotion or to plead with him to continue.

If he had to consider the things that could be promised, the things he could get Lovino to mutter under his breath, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself—he would go crazy with lust and need, and he would end up dragging Lovino to the bedroom, and fucking him senseless, if Lovino could last that long. He would force Lovino—he tried to shake those thoughts away, but he couldn't deny that something good might happen if he continued.

"Hey, asshole! We should be going," Lovino called out to him as the Italian moved quickly, yet silently, through the brush that was up ahead—they somehow made it to the edge of town, and into the wilderness.

He watched Lovino kill off two hunters, and he took care of a stray hiker that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He watched with a mild amusement at their shocked faces, taking in the thrill that happened to come from seeing the faces in horror yet happiness as they face their death head-on—they were stunningly gorgeous after all.

He laughed softly, as if he wanted to sound confident yet wanted not to offend Lovino. He then smiled in what he assumed was a genuine smile, and whispered, quite loudly, "We should go, Lovino." He held his hand out to the Italian, and pulled him away from the carnage that they had both created.

"One more thing—try not to target people that will obviously missed. I suggest looking for homeless people or people that went hiking." He chuckled to himself as he realized that he would spend a long time with Lovino—he had to teach him a lot of the rules that vampires tried to follow.


End file.
